Clive Dove Book 1 This Is Excitement
by xPerceiveTheTruthx
Summary: Takes place after the events of Unwound Future. Clive Dove is sentenced to a life in prison, and once again finds himself completely alone. On Dimitri's release date, he visits Clive and leaves him with ominous words. Clive is determined to find out what he meant. There's more than one way out of here...
1. Chapter 1

_Clive Dove_

_This is excitement_

_A Professor Layton Fic_

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

_**Dear God, guys! It's been so long since I've last written or updated a story here, and even longer since I've written an Unwound Future based story! But I missed the amazing unwound future characters too much to leave them behind forever. **_

_***Hugs all the unwound future characters***_

_**I don't own any of the unwound future characters or events, but I do own this story. Thank you.**_

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

Snow filtered its way down from the wide, dark sky and down onto the already coated London streets. A small beam of light shone in through the single window in a prison cell. Normal prisoners would be asleep at this time, but Clive Dove was no normal prisoner.

Just when he felt he was drifting off, one of the guards, a large, overweight man, walked past his cell, purposefully banging the keys on the cell bars, sending a loud clanging noise throughout the small room. Clive sat up again and glared stonily at him.

"Fisheye,"

The word was nearly spat, hatred and anger pulsing through every syllable.

Fisheye matched his name perfectly, the lower half of his face was smaller and skinnier than the fat top, and he had two bulging eyes that looked like they would pop out of their sockets. This amazing resemblance to the bubble-eyed goldfish had earned the guard his nickname.

The guard paused as Clive spoke, and stepped back the few paces he had taken, turning to look through the bars at the prisoner. When he saw Clive glaring back at him, eyes shining in the dark, he gave a light laugh.

"No rest for the wicked, huh, Clive?"

No reply echoed through the corridor, not that Fisheye had been expecting one. For the two months that Clive had been in the jail, the boy had been remarkably quiet. The words he had uttered a few moments had been some of very few. Most of his days were in silence now. Though you may think this is good, less bothersome even, his silence only made the police and guards extremely nervous. A silent prisoner was often a dangerous, planning prisoner.

And Clive Dove was known for his plans.

Fisheye tauntingly held the keys inside the cell, but Clive didn't even move. Not the slightest. The teen had seen this trick before, as the guards used it frequently with other prisoners. As soon as you moved to take the keys, the guard would pull them back, out of your reach.

Seemingly annoyed that his prey wasn't going to play along with his game, Fisheye took to insulting the teen.

"You know, our payment comes out of the Dove Fortune. Amazing pay we get. Lovely."

Clive flinched slightly.

"We spend it on things very quickly, like chocolate, and fizzy juice,"

Fisheye was about to go on when he got yet another shock.

"You're a fool,"

The guard shut his mouth and looked back to the prisoner who had just spoken. Clive had moved slightly, and was now leaning against the cell wall.

"What did you say?" inquired Fisheye warily.

A cold laugh echoed around the cell, and then Clive was right on the other side of the bars.

"I said you're a fool, Fisheye!"

Fisheye narrowed his eyes as Clive smirked. He had hit a mark and he knew it.

"What? Too foolish to respond?"

Before the teen could react, Fisheye had placed a hard slap to the side of his face and knocked him backward with a hard push.

Clive hissed in pain as he fell back and hit both his hands and knees hard. Small beads of blood began to form on the newly created cuts. When he looked back up, Fisheye was eyeing him with a contented expression.

"But you're the biggest fool, Dove,"

Clive didn't move from his position on the floor, but retorted quickly. "At least I don't resemble a dead goldfish, and I'm no coward unlike you,"

Fisheye gave another laugh and jangled the keys. "Just remember who's the one behind bars,"

Clive shrugged as Fisheye walked away, boots clanging on the hard stone floor. As soon as the guard was gone, Clive bit his lip to stop tears forming as the blood ran down his arms and legs. Fisheye wasn't really _allowed _to hurt him, in fact, it was technically illegal. But what did that help? Who would take a prisoner's word over a guards? For all the judge knew Clive had hurt himself, being of an insane mind and state.

Clive calmed down quickly and took a shaky breath, brushing himself off and standing up, leaving bloody smears on his trousers, jacket and the cell floor. He climbed back onto the bed and gazed out the barred window before glancing out of his cell into the prison corridor, fixing his stare on the clock and calendar.

December 24th. 11:59 PM

One minute to Christmas. One minute to the anniversary of his adoption.

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December 25th. 00:00

The clock tower bells rang like normal and Clive returned to the small window, putting his head on his hands and closing his eyes, the cold wind brushing across his face.

Was it really less than six months ago he had been living a normal life in the clock shop with Spring and Cogg? It had seemed like an eternity.

Nothing ever happened here. Christmas day would be like every other for him, as would the Christmas after that, and the one after that, and so on for the rest of his life.

Clive Dove had been sentenced to life imprisonment.

Dimitri Allen had been sentenced to two months.

Clive clenched his fists as he once more felt a surge of anger toward his former partner. It was so unfair! Dimitri wasn't a saint, and neither was he! Didn't Dimitri deserve a lifelong sentence as well? Apparently not.

_Oh Yes,_ Clive thought bitterly,_ Today's Dimitri's Release Date_

The young criminal sighed and sank back down onto the bed. Staring at the walls that would surround him for as long as he'd live.

"Clive?"

Clive narrowed his eyes and glared at the voice's owner.

"Look, Clive. If you're still touchy…. I'm sorry,"

This just annoyed the teen further. "Dimitri, I am in no mood to talk to you."

Dimitri ran a hand through his hair. "I only came to say-"

"That you're out of here?" Clive interrupted, "As If I didn't know that already,"

The two simply stared at each other for a few moments, unsure exactly what to say.

"Well…. I guess this is goodbye,"

Clive nodded as Dimitri spoke the words. "I guess so," 

Dimitri nodded slowly at his one time partner, before beginning to walk off. Then he paused.

"You know, Clive, there's more than one way out of here,"

The words puzzled Clive, but before he could call out to the scientist to ask him what he meant, Dimitri had gone. He let out an irritated curse, and sat back down. The jail walls suddenly seemed much less interesting as he went over Dimitri's words over and over in his head.

"Huh." He whispered to himself, "That was strange."

Clive stood up and examined the cuts on his hands and knees once more, wincing as he touched them. Then he returned to staring out of the single window.

He sat there, watching the snow fall through the bars and catching a few lone flakes on his hand, smiling at the coldness of them. He'd always loved snow. It was colder than rain and made you feel cold. Sometimes when he was younger he believed that his life was coated in snow, and one day it would melt and he could continue living as he had lived when his parents were still alive.

Of course, this had never happened. If his life had been covered in snow, the only thing the snow did was get colder and colder, refusing to let the flames of anger melt it.

Then one day it _had _melted. It had melted and the flames of anger had burst through. That was the day that Layton pointed out his plan in the Thames's Arms, a popular bar in Underground London. Clive realised that he had been unable to control the flames. Was that what compelled him to use the fortress before it was really complete?

The fortress had been nearly finished, but there were a few fatal flaws. For example, by changing a few wires, someone could swap the Prime Minister with something else. Clive hadn't found this important until he realised the damage this could do to his plan.

_It was the right thing._ Clive thought, shutting his eyes tight, _Then why do I feel guilty?_

The teen never had any visitors beside a few hand chosen ones, as he didn't want to have to explain anything to anyone. The only people he let visit him were Spring and Cogg, who had worked for him when he was still the Master of the Dove Mansion, Shipley, who had been there through every step in his madness to support him, and occasionally

Professor Layton himself, who was someone he could lean on.

Clive opened his eyes once more and blinked a few times, getting used to the bleary light again, before picking up a handful of the white snow that was resting in between the bars on the window, staring as it melted in his hand. Outside, he saw the first few strands of Dawn's light streaking over the sky, and Big Ben rang once more. It really was like any normal day.

Outside he could hear the streets begin to get busy. Christmas Day always was a busy day to go on holiday, go out to eat or maybe just go for a walk in the snow.

Clive could go for a walk in his cell.

Fun.

As he stared through the window, breeze rustling his hair, he thought back to the strange words from earlier.

_There's more than one way out of here._

Clive frowned, mulling over what exactly Dimitri had meant.

He knew he wasn't getting out of here, the police and Bill Hawks had ordered it. Yet… was there even a tiny chance he might get released?

No.

That wasn't it.

_There's more than one-way out of here._

Getting released was only one of the ways he could get out, apparently.

He shook his head, concluding that Dimitri had been talking rubbish. It wouldn't be the first time.

The rattle of keys woke him from his daydream. A prison guard rounded the corner and unlocked his cell door. Clive stared at him. What was he doing?

"Dove, you have a visitor,"

"Who?" Inquired Clive, feeling faintly annoyed that whoever it was had just interrupted his thinking session.

The guard shook his head. "The Prime Minister,'

"WHAT!?" Clive protested, "Uh uh. No way. You'll have to drag me there!'

"I will if I have to. He has to see you," the guard paused, selecting his words carefully. "Says it's urgent,"

"But I though I told you the only visitors I wanted were-"

The guard stopped him from going on by handcuffing him. "I think you can make an exception for the Prime Minister,"

Clive put up no further protest as he was led into the meeting room. A plastic screen separated Bill Hawks and him.

Good.

Otherwise the city might not have their Prime Minister in one piece when he left this room.

The Dove and the Hawk watched each other almost warily, before Clive gave a fake smile.

"To what do I owe the grand honour of this visit?" he drawled sarcastically.

"To my advisor," Hissed Bill Hawks, "Trust me, Dove, I don't want to be here any more than you do"

"Let's get this over with then," Prompted Clive.

Bill slammed his palms down on the table, but Clive didn't even flinch. He was used to this sort of thing now.

"I want to know why you did it,"

Clive smirked. "Did what?"

"Don't play stupid with me," The Prime Minister said, "You know as well as I do what I'm talking about, Dove,"

Anger flooded through Clive as the Prime Minister continued to use his surname, but he just gritted his teeth and bore it.

"Yes, I presume I know what you are referring to,"

"Then tell me why you did it!" Billyelled.

Clive shook his head and looked around the small room. Mocking him.

"I'm afraid I can't. Even if I did, I doubt you would believe me,"

Bill was about to shoot back another comment, when one of the guards came in. Time was up.

Clive sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he was escorted back, tugging ever so slightly at the chestnut strands. His blue eyes flicked from guard to guard as they locked the door, and, once more he was left alone.

He walked carefully back up to the window, and gazed out. Then it struck him

.

_There's more than one way out of here._

Clive grinned.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

_**Okay, so first chapter is up! Altogether this chapter was pretty boring, but at the second chapter it begins to pick up. (I know because I've already written it). So Clive's figured out what Dimitri meant! Interesting….**_

_**The story's title means something later on in the story too, but I'm not giving away any more on what it means. /**_

_**Review if you want to see this story continued!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_**Chapter Two**_

I think it goes without saying that I don't own any recognisable characters in here.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

The rest of the day seemed to pass extremely quickly for Clive, and mainly involved a lot of thinking, and not much doing. Now that he understood the words, it was only a matter of hours before his plan would be put into action.

And he was excited.

Unfortunately…. There was a teeny tiny miniscule quite possible chance that his plan _would not _work.

That was worrying.

Clive sighed and stood up, this time ignoring the window and fingering the lock on the outside of the bars on the door. He then put his hand on the lock holding the bars on the window. Which would be easier? That would be the final adjustment, and then _finally _he could act.

"Still here, Dove? I have to say I'm disappointed,"

Clive rolled his eyes and bit his lip to keep the words _Not for much longer_ from flowing out of his mouth. He couldn't let Fisheye see he had a plan, especially not when Fisheye would play a big part in it. Not that Fisheye knew this, of course. Clive was good at making people do what he wanted.

Instead of letting on, he simply answered with.

"It's hard to form a plan when the water you get here is filled with germs…. If only I could get fresh water… then I'd be out of here in a flash…"

He grinned as he saw Fisheye getting suspicious. The guard put his hand on his belt, and then in one of his pockets, presumably checking his keys were still where they ought to be.

_Thanks for showing me which pocket they're in, you nitwit._

Unknowingly, Fisheye had just helped him. It saved him from searching for the keys later on in the plan. He knew for certain already that Fisheye carried around the keys to his cell door and window, as he would often taunt him with them.

"Don't you have something better to do, Fisheye?"

Fisheye narrowed his eyes and stood there for a moment, just staring at Clive. "Whatever you're planning, it won't work,"

Clive slumped down on the bed, pretending to look defeated. "Oh. That's just too bad, then,"

"Yes. Your plans always fail, Dove," sneered Fisheye, before retreating down the corridor.

When he was finally alone, Clive knocked a few times on the wall, remembering the Morse code like code he had set up with Spring and Cogg. A certain number of knocks in a certain order made a letter. Nobody else knew this code, except him and the other two. It was their secret way of communicating. Clive glanced across the cell to the calendar that hanged opposite. According to it, he was supposed to have a visit from Spring and Cogg today.

Good.

Now all he had to do was wait.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

The day seemed to pass quickly, and all too soon, Clive found himself being escorted by four policemen to the meeting room. The usual plastic screen separated him and his soon-to-be saviours. The police nodded to the two visitors and then went to wait outside the room.

Clive lay back in the chair and observed the other two carefully. This was the first time they'd visited him in jail, and little did they know it would also be the last.

"Clive…" Spring started awkwardly, "We visited you, just like we said we would…."

"Yeah," Clive murmured lightly.

The awkward atmosphere was well…. Very awkward.

Then Clive noticed that Spring was actually _crying. _Cogg placed an arm around her shoulders. Clive didn't find this moment touching or moving at all.

In fact, he found it rather pathetic.

Carefully, he began to tap the desk, catching the attention of the two opposite him.

Cogg took out a small notebook and began to jot down what it was that the teen was spelling.

Clive stopped knocking and waited for it to register into the two, hoping they had caught all the knocks. This was a vital stage.

Cogg glanced down at the words, after a while he nodded slowly, and caught Clive's eye, which glimmered with mischief….

Soon after, their time was spent. Clive waited for a policeman to question him about the knocks, but no one did. Spring and Cogg weren't asked either. By the time the CCTV was checked, Clive would be gone.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

Spring and Cogg hurried back to the clock shop. They dropped their belongings there quickly before heading out.

"Where on earth are we supposed to get this?" Spring inquired, confusion flooding her features.

Cogg shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he answered truthfully, "But the young sir wanted it, so he will get it. That's the least we can do for him. I'm sure he has a reason for instructing us to get this,"

The two walked along in silence for a while, with only the roaring of cars and the singing of birds disturbing them. They reached a dingy looking shop and walked in.

The shop was horrible, dank, and covered in dirt from every corner. Spring scrunched up her nose in distaste.

The shop owner walked up to them. A short, stout man with a beard nearly as long as he was, and twinkling black eyes.

"Welcome. May I help you?"

"Yes," Cogg muttered, pulling the notepad out of his pocket and handing it to the owner, who looked at it with interest.

"Hmmm…." The man thought hard, racking his brains. "I do believe we have some. Is there a specific colour you wanted?"

The couple from the clock shop glanced at each other. Clive hadn't really been specific.

"We'd like it to be clear as water, if possible,"

The shop owner nodded and disappeared behind the counter. A faint rustling could be heard as he searched through many boxes of things to find the specific item.

Soon, he came out. A small vial of clear liquid was in his grubby hand. "This is it. It's £2.50 a vial, is that okay with you?"

"Yes, thank you," Cogg replied. The two quickly paid the money and left the shop, making their way back to the prison.

_0o0o0o0o0o0o0o_

Clive had been waiting patiently. A few hours later, the clanging of Fisheye's keys could be heard. The teen sat up straight, wondering if the clock shop couple had managed to get what he had wanted.

He remembered back to the words he had tapped out.

**Sleep Syrum**

Fisheye appeared a few moments later, with a small vial of clear liquid in his hand. The prison guard laughed, and Clive held his breath. The next part of his plan depended on Fisheye being stupid.

"Look, Dove. The kind couple at the clock shop sent you some clean water!" Fisheye held the vial up close to Clive, who came up to the bars. Fisheye snatched it away. "But we ain't gonna give it to ya!"

Clive tried not to smirk as Fisheye opened the small vial and drank the contents. He moved forward as Fisheye began to fall, and caught the heavy guard before he fell and made a loud clatter.

Clive laid Fisheye on the floor, before going through his pocket and pulling out the set of keys. Glancing around, Clive smirked.

_Perfect._

He walked over to the window and unlocked the bars, taking them off. He then stole a small knife out of Fisheye's pocket, and cut the glass out. The teen slid the knife into his boot, before dropping the keys. He didn't need them anymore.

Clive climbed onto the window ledge and jumped out, squinting in the light. The snow had stopped, and had been replaced with the sun.

Suddenly shouts erupted behind him. Clive forgot about the snow and the sun and bolted.

_Faster, Clive, Faster!_

He thought to himself, running. The one thing he had chosen to keep in prison was his outfit, so he should be able to blend in. Clive kept running, the wind blowing harshly on him, footsteps echoing behind. The prison guards were gaining on him. He couldn't stop now, that would be giving in.

Clive swerved down and alleyway, taking a way no person would ever think of taking.

_When you have nowhere to run, where do you go?_

Clive could only think of one place.


	3. Chapter 3

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_Chapter Three_

_**A/N; I think it goes without saying that I don't own any recognisable characters in this story.**_

* * *

In a dark room in one of the houses in London, a phone rang and was picked up quickly. The conversation was muted and answered with hardly any words. The old housekeeper creaked his way into the next door room, where a dark figure sat in a chair by the fire.

"It's for you, miss,"

The girl closed her book and reached backward for the phone, which was handed to her without any further remark.

"Yes?" she asked curtly, a cold voice.

The housekeeper shuffled awkwardly. The mistress only used that tone when she was extremely annoyed, and when she was annoyed, she was unpredictable.

"I see, interesting…. So that wrongdoer has made his move, has he…. Yes…. Yes…"

The girl was nodding slowly, thinking hard while answering the call. The housekeeper found himself growing increasingly nervous. Then the girl put down the phone.

"News, mistress?" The housekeeper inquired timidly, almost afraid of her answer.

His mistress nodded. "Yes. Bad news."

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

"Don't be." She replied coldly, "I still have his home and fortune. Without that he is _nothing."_

"Yes, miss," he replied, "Of course,"

The girl smiled coldly. "Let's see how far he gets," a crazed laugh echoed around the room. "Dove, I hope you'll play along…"

* * *

Clive bolted as fast as he could for the Clock Shop. It was a little far fetched, yes, but it was his only chance. His only, small chance.

The footsteps behind him grew louder and louder as his pursuers continued to try and catch him. After all of this planning, he wasn't giving up.

He reached the Clock Shop and burst in. Spring and Cogg stared at him with their mouths open as he ran to the back of the shop and pulled the lever. The police force pounded on the shop door as the lift burst into action. Clive let out a sigh of slight relief as he was lifted down into the earth. He wasn't completely sure of the state Future London would be in after the explosion, but it would have to do. It was big, and he knew the way around. He could evade the police force easily there.

He hoped.

The teen tapped his foot impatiently as the lift jolted to a stop. He walked slowly to the door and opened it.

Future London was in ruins.

It was almost a wasteland. Rubble, bricks and bodies lay everywhere. The stench of death and stale air hit him and he coughed, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve.

The fortress had definitely left it's mark on Future London, and not for the better.

As he picked his way over bricks, he wondered briefly what had happened to the others he had known here. How were Shipley, Bostro and Splinters?

He sincerely hoped they weren't dead. They could be his key to starting another rebellion.

Clive eventually decided to take a rest and perched on a piece of rubble. That was when and where he realised he had a problem. He had _no _food, and no means of getting any food.

Cursing under his breath, he shook his head and continued on. Past the destroyed Thames's arms, past the underwater research facility…. The old haunts… places of past times.

He had never actually been truly happy here, but it was the best his life had been. He had friends, a life, a place of his own and a goal. And he'd ruined it.

The teen found himself biting his lip to stop tears leaking out as he noticed a familiar figure. He stumbled over and turned the figure round.

Bostro.

The once faithful Family member was lying face down in the dirt, dead. Clive blinked a few times, dismay filling him. If this fate had befallen Bostro, there was no doubt Splinters and Shipley were dead too.

* * *

Up on the topside, the police force had retired, fuming, back to the station. They told every newspaper agent to print the news on the paper, and tell everyone to be on their highest guard until they caught this criminal. Which they _would._

Bill Hawks had been sitting having tea with his wife when he heard the news that nearly made him spit out his chicken. Nearly, but not quite.

The Prime Minister called the whole police and army to him immediately, so he could work out a plan.

"We need him _caught. _That boy is an imminent threat to our national security," Boomed Bill, taking a sip of his tea.

The police warden stepped forward. "We are doing all we can. We have sent some of our force into the Future London and-"

"Well it's not good enough!" interrupted Bill. "We need something that'll work fast, and well. I don't care about the state the boy will be in, I just care for our nation,"

The officers and soldiers glanced at each other, alarmed. Bill was talking, and had a glint in his eye.

"We have to take action, and it has to be done now, otherwise we risk losing everything,"

"Yes," They chorused, curious to find out what their leader's idea was.

Bill Hawks continued his meeting, drawing out a map of the underground London.

"He will have taken the Clock Shop way,"

The Prime Minister pointed his baton to the way he meant. "This means we know exactly the area in which he should be,"

"Yes," They chorused again.

"This is the second time he's done something down here. We cannot take that risk again. We simply cannot."

The room held their breath. The prime minister's wife sat, listening. She had nearly fainted when she heard that ruffian, Clive Dove, was back on the streets of London, ready to deploy his fiendish schemes… even thinking about it made her feel dizzy.

The meeting progressed quickly, as nobody wanted to interrupt or correct their leader. No conclusion was made, and they all went home for the night.

The next morning, Bill called them all back. Overnight, he had been thinking hard about what was to happen.

"I've been thinking hard," he started, "And I believe I have finally come to a conclusion that is safe for London,"

Everybody listened carefully, waiting for their orders.

"Future London is deep down in the earth. Any shocks there will be absorbed by the earth itself, and will not affect London,"

Professor Layton, who had been called in also, was now uneasy. He didn't like where this was going. The Prime Minister laid his hands on the desk, a glint in his eye.

"We must blow up Future London," he whispered dramatically, "And flush that little rat out,"

* * *

**A/N**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I did my best! (I still feel like I can't write Clive AT ALL ;-;) **

**Review if you want this continued!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_Chapter Four_

* * *

Clive coughed once, the air held ashes and soot. This was _his_ city, Clive realised, horror filling him.

_I think I'm going to have to fix it._

Clive continued on, hopping over bricks and dead bodies. The stench was horrible and he was almost sick multiple times. The teen carried onward, before retreating back to the Thames's arms. It looked like the poor place had taken the worst of the blows.

That's what it gets when a mobile fortress is built next to it.

Clive looked around, shielding his eyes from the fake sun with a hand. Although the beams of light were far from real, you could still be blinded, and that was the last thing he wanted right now.

Clive heard a noise and shot to the side as tiles fell off a roof and landed exactly where he had been a few seconds ago.

The teen blinked a few times, staring at the tiles in shock.

_I could have been killed, that could have killed me!  
_

Shaking slightly, he continued. The only place not in ruins was the research lab. That seemed to be the only place he could go, nowhere else was an option. He faced the same, familiar iron door leading underground, and solved the puzzle to get in.

When he was in, he skirted around, searching for any food. There was none. Clive sat down and contemplated his options.

_I could go back to jail. I could stay here. I could go somewhere else in Future London and get killed by flying tiles. I could start another rebellion against Bill Hawks._

_Such a hard decision. _

Clive huffed silently, before standing back up. "I think I'll go out for a bit," he murmured into himself, stepping over the debris and back out into the destroyed city. The teen bit his lip so hard it bled, and ran a hand through his hair.

_I'm really stuck, aren't I?_

Clive sighed and walked forward again.

_No I'm not. I did this. I'll be able to fix it if I just try._

He shrugged and just stopped thinking about anything except his next few moves. Clive knew that the police saw his go to Future London, so he was surprised that no action had been taken yet, and that no policemen were down here searching him out. It left him with a queasy feeling. Something wasn't right.

Clive looked around him, trying to be aware of everything around him at once. Nothing seemed to be a threat, so he continued.

A crash caught his attention. He whipped around, but nobody was there. Curious, Clive peered around the corner of the shop, and saw a dark figure retreating into the building.

"Hey, you!" he yelled, suddenly not caring if it was the police.

Anger coursed through him when the figure turned and fled.

_Coward._

The anger kept building, as Clive gave chase. It wasn't a policeman, that much was for sure. If it had been a policeman, Clive was pretty sure he would already have a hand on his collar and the words 'You're under arrest' would already have been spoken.

"Hey! Stop, wait up!'

The figure kept running. Clive was gaining on them, but he couldn't make out any defining features yet, or clothes.

The chase went on for some time, and Clive was out of breath by the tail end of it. Determination flooded through him, and he sprinted up to the figure, but they had disappeared.

Wary, Clive checked everywhere he could think of. Who had that been? He couldn't be sure, and that worried him. In this position, he was vulnerable, and he knew it. He had no plan, and nobody else to help him if he ran into trouble.

Clive sighed and adjusted the tie he was wearing. If there really were other people down here, he still had to _look_ like he would put up a fight.

Clive sat down beside the Thames and washed the cuts he had received from Fisheye the other day in the jail, as well as drinking a little. Hey, it wasn't clean in any way, but it was the best he was going to get.

After he was done, Clive lay back at stared at the cavern's roof sleepily. It had been ages since he had a good sleep, and needless to say he was exhausted.

His thoughts wandered back to the strange figure here.

_That person must have been living here since the attack two months ago. They probably know how to survive here. If only I could find them, then I'd be okay!_

Clive shook his head to clear it once more. The teen had made a decision. He was _not _going to go find that person. Clive wasn't weak, and he wouldn't let anybody think of him as that. One thing was uncertain, though. If one person had survived here, how many others did? Enough to launch another rebellion? Clive wasn't sure.

He closed his eyes. It was peaceful here, like it had been back when he lived with his parents. A small mile crept onto his face, but he stopped it. He hadn't smiled a real smile in years. Not since Constance's death, and he wasn't going to now.

Clive rubbed his eyes and coughed. The air wasn't clean. He stood up and brushed himself off, before tearing a part of his jacket sleeve off and tying it tight around the cut on his leg, staunching the flow of blood.

_I'll get you back for that one, Fisheye._

* * *

As nightfall came, it became apparent to Clive that he would need to decide on a place to sleep. For now, a tumble down barn would do. It wasn't the best, but he was tired.

He lay on the straw and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The birds hadn't even woken yet when Clive did, but there was a reason for that. Clive widened his eyes and stared in horror. A small spark was in the distance. He walked closer to the source and looked carefully. A fire!

Then there was the first explosion.

Curious, Clive crept closer. A small metal box-like thing was attached to the tree using wires. Someone had put it there since he had fallen asleep, as he didn't remember seeing it earlier.

The teen prised it open, and looked inside, wincing. The contents were very dangerous. What would somebody be doing, strapping these things to the trees?

Clive's hands flew across the box, disabling it quickly.

_There,_ he thought happily, feeling more secure. _It's disabled, and I can go back to sleep now._

He crept back to the barn and lay down again, hoping among hopes that nothing else would wake him.

He couldn't have been more wrong!

He was barely asleep when he heard a long booming noise. Thoroughly irritated, he stomped out and was about to yell 'Shut up' when he noticed what exactly had been making the noise.

Underground London had burst into flames.

Clive turned and bolted, terror filled his eyes. How exactly was he going to escape this one? He ran past the broken barn, the smashed Thames's arms, the research facility…. Everything was in flames. He fell down in front of the clock shop, only to find the door had been locked, and it wasn't a puzzle lock.

The teen cursed and changed direction, heading for the Thames. Surely they wouldn't be able to set water on fire?

In the greatest misfortune, the flames were growing higher and higher until Clive barely knew his surroundings.

_Bill Hawks._ He thought,_ This is all his doing._

Clive glanced around frantically for a way out, before running down a small break in the flames.

The air was hot and sticky, and Clive began to cough as soot and ashes filled his lungs. He felt like he was burning inside.

_Come on, Clive._ The teen thought, _Just a little further, and then you'll be safe._

But would he? Or was he desperate and just trying to trick himself into believing that?

He decided it was probably the latter.

Clive frantically dashed down the road, flames bursting into life behind him. Then it came to him, it hit him like a ton of bricks and made anger course through his veins, melting the ice.

_He's trying to flush me out!_

Clive wasn't going to be seen as weak. No. He wasn't going to be flushed out like some kind of cornered animal in a den of hunters.

If he was going down, he was going down in flames.

Clive turned and stopped, facing the flames and the explosions. He shut his eyes and let the heat wash over him.

Then the bomb closest to him exploded into life, and he was thrown backwards.

The world around him went black.

* * *

**A/N;**

**Okay guys, another chapter done! What did y'all think? All in all, I'm pretty happy with this one.**

**I'm so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so sorry! Clive's really OOC in this chapter, isn't he?**

***Hides ***

**I'm sorry…**

**Review if you want the next chapter…. I guess.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_Chapter 5_

**A/N;**

**Before I start this chapter, I'd just like to give a big 'thank-you' to GoldGriffin. I read every single one of the reviews on every chapter, and Gold has given so much information, and a lot of help. So, thanks for that :D I'm going to try to include the 'other side' of Clive in this chapter, so totally slap me if I do badly! (Just kidding...!)**

* * *

The world blearily came into sight when Clive opened his eyes, squinting at the light. The first thing he noticed was the _immense pain_. It flooded over him, nearly making him cry out. He gave a few half-hearted attempts to sit up, but every time the pain would force him to lie again.

_Let me just die here. What use is my life anyway?_

Clive closed his eyes once more. The soot had gotten to his lungs, and he burst into a violent coughing fit.

"Glad to see you're awake, Clive,"

The voice was very familiar. Too familiar. Clive really wanted to believe he had heard it, but had he?

The teen finally found the strength to sit, and swivelled round. He broke into a grin when he saw the figure sitting behind him.

"Shipley!"

He couldn't help it. He was really glad that Shipley had made it. There was a certain bond among the two that had never been severed, not even when Clive had tried to destroy the city.

Shipley gave a small nod, bending over the fire he had made. He frowned when Clive gave an attempt to stand up.

"I wouldn't, if I were you?"

"What?" asked Clive, surprised, "Why?'

_Surely I can still move?_

Shipley stood up and walked over to Clive, bending down so he was kneeling beside him and took off the cloth that was lying on the teen's leg.

The sight of it almost made Clive cry. Or throw up. Either or.

The whole of his leg was burnt. The skin was blackened and peeling, and a mixture of blood, soot and dirt oozed slowly out of it.

"That's why. You got beaten up pretty bad, mate." Shipley shook his head sadly, pointing to various other burns. "There are multiple burns on your hands, other leg and… well… everywhere, really,"

Clive nodded, biting his lip to stop tears from streaming down his cheeks. He turned his head away, not wanting to see the wound anymore. Shipley replaced the cloth.

"You should live, though." He assured Clive, walking back over to the fire.

Clive raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem," answered Shipley. "I haven't seen you since…."

Their eyes met. Uneasy silence settled between the two. Shipley brought some soup over to Clive and made him eat it, as much as the teen protested, claiming he wasn't hungry. The attack was evidently still fresh in their minds, and even Clive himself didn't know why he had done it. Sure, Bill killed his parents…. But why didn't he just target Bill?

Clive rubbed his head, deciding that the matter was too confusing to think about. "I broke out of jail,"

"I heard," Shipley replied, "That was very naughty of you,"

Clive smiled, but it was fake. He sighed. He _knew_ Shipley was just trying to cheer him up, but there was a certain awkwardness that hung over the two. A sudden thought sprang to mind. "Hey…. Was that you earlier? The person that I called out to?"

"Yes," replied Shipley, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "I… was a little scared of you, to be honest,"

Clive frowned. He knew that there was a good reason behind Shipley being scared, but surely he wasn't that bad. The teen knew he had done something terrible, but he was trying to make up for it, right?

"Hey, Shipley?"

"Yes?" the postman replied, more focused on cleaning the leg wound Clive had received.

"What happened to the Dove Fortune?"

Shipley's face turned grave. "Im sorry to say you no longer own it. It was given to a young girl who claimed to know you,"

"Name?" inquired Clive, "And address?"

Shipley shook his head and grimaced. "Some lass from Australia. Arriann, I think,"

Clive froze. _No. No. No. No. After all these years… no._

Just the thought of her return made Clive want to run. Shipley placed a hand on his shoulder. "You okay, mate?"

"I'm…" Clive paused, and swallowed before continuing. "Fine. I'm fine,"

"You don't look to fine. Oh, hang on, you hit your head. Let me get something for that,"

"You don't have to," he blurted out, covering his mouth after he'd said it.

Shipley turned around and gave him a funny look. Clive avoided eye contact and looked down, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting. Shipley noticed this and sat beside him.

"What you did was terrible," he started, voice low and whispering. Clive looked close to tears. "But I can see through that mask you have on. You're no killer, Dove. You're just lost. You'll try to put it right. I know you."

Clive was surprised at this sudden comfort. It wasn't like Shipley to talk like this to anyone, especially not his one-time employer. Clive found himself nodding slowly.

Shipley patted his shoulder and stood up again. "And I know I don't _have _to, I _want _to, Dove, so you'd better get used to it. I remember when you helped me and my family. You gave us money when we had none. It's my turn now. Let me take care of you for a change,"

"You've already done your part," Clive pointed out.

"Really?" Shipley joked, "News to me!"

Clive grinned. "You've put up with me all these years,"

"That's nothing! You are like a little, gentle mouse…."

"_Yeah, sure,"_ Clive muttered sarcastically, picking the scab on one of his hands. Shipley batted his hand away.

"Stop that," he scolded gently, "You'll open the cuts again,"

Clive sighed and lay back again, watching the clouds move slowly in the artificial sky.

Shipley busied himself finding the medicine for him. He came over and spooned out medicine, which he forced the teen to take.

"You done 'caring' for me now?" Clive asked, feeling rather weak to be getting 'cared' for.

"No, I won't stop 'caring' about you until you're back on your feet, Dove,"

Clive didn't really like people using his surname, but Shipley had always used it and probably would always use it.

"What happened to Layton?" Clive inquired, tapping the ground impatiently.

Shipley stood up, face scrunched up in concentration. "He went back to being a university professor. The boy, Luke, moved to America, and the girl, Flora, stayed with Layton, claiming she was 'waiting' for someone,"

Clive nodded, wincing when Shipley poured water on the wound.

Then Shipley paused. "I think she's waiting for you, Clive,"

The thought would have pleased Clive if he hadn't been incredibly woozy at the time. He saw the world begin to blur.

"Clive? Clive? Dove?!" Shipley anxiously asked, as he saw the teen slip out of consciousness. Clive was ominously still.

"No, no, no, no, no!" he yelled to himself, "He simply can't!"

He looked up into the sky, and sank onto his knees, defeated. Shipley set Clive on the ground.

"He can't die like this,"

* * *

**Woot woot, done! There will be more to come, don't worry! ****I find the friendship between Clive and Shipley in this chapter very touching for some reason ;-; It shows us a side of Clive we don't often get to see.**

**Review for another chapter! Favourite quote from the story so far?**


	6. Chapter 6

Clive Dove

This Is Excitement

Chapter Six

A few days later, much to Shipley's relief, Clive had woken up and was back on his feet. It was still painful, but not as much as it had been. He still needed hourly medication, though.

The two friends were spending most of their time chatting, and generally getting to know each other again.

* * *

Meanwhile, Bill Hawks was sitting at his desk smugly. He sat up straight when a police officer came in.

"I presume he's back in jail now?" Bill questioned, slinking around the edge of the table. To his uttermost shock and annoyance, the police officer shook his head.

"No, I'm sorry. The boy must have decided to stay in Future London," he explained, roughly pulling at his hair in a stressed manner.

Bill shook his head, a small smile creeping onto his features. "Stupid boy. Nobody could have survived the first explosions. When are they planning to bring the body up?"

The Police Officer sighed. "That's the problem," he paused, choosing his words carefully. "He _did _survive the first bombs."

The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes, walking back to the desk and sitting down, head on his hands. He was deep in thought.

_How can I eliminate Dove and make it look like his fault?_

Bill shook his head to clear it and nodded to the Officer. "I understand you are doing your best, but I really need that boy kille- I mean, I need that boy found,"

The police Officer nodded slowly. "Yes. We will activate another set of bombs later. These bombs will be twice as strong as the ones last time. They'll rat him out for sure,"

Bill lay back in the chair, a smirk was evident on his face. "Good. _Good,"_

* * *

In Gressenheller University, Professor Layton was troubled. He and many other Londoners had heard rumblings underfoot. It worried him, was Clive planning another rebellion? If so, he would need to be stopped. And fast.

The puzzle-solving Professor stood up and beckoned Flora over to him. It had been two months since Luke had left, but Flora had stayed with him. She was now officially his new apprentice, and she was definitely a fast learner, just like Luke had been.

"Yes, Professor?" she inquired, curious as to why he would call her over.

The Professor paused for a moment, before continuing. "You and I are going to go down into Future London once more to see if we can help the Police Force find Clive,"

Flora froze. Sure, she knew he had escaped, but _finding _him? That was a different thing altogether. She knew she should be angry at him, but every time she tried, she just couldn't _stay _angry at him for long.

"Okay, Professor," was her final answer, and it came with a couple of quick nods.

The Professor tapped her on the shoulder.

"That's the spirit, Flora!" he laughed. "Come on, you aren't getting left behind this time!"

Flora smiled enthusiastically and scrambled to get everything she would need into her little bag, stringing it over her shoulder.

The two set off in the Layton mobile, and shortly reached the Clock Shop.

Spring and Cogg did nothing to stop them as they pressed the switch and descended into Future London.

As the professor and his assistant stepped out, the stale air hit them like a ton of bricks.

"What on earth happened here?" whispered Flora, eyes wide with horror as she stared at the destroyed city.

"I'm guessing Clive's mobile fortress did a lot more damage than we originally thought," muttered the Professor, guiding Flora along.

The two reached their destination quickly, and went inside the underwater research lab. The walls were scorched, and soot hung in the air.

"Let's split up,"

Layton glanced at Flora before sighing. "Yes. I don't want to, but we'll never find him if we don't,"

Flora continued on from here alone. She hopped over rubble, tumbled over bricks, and finally came out in front of the Thames.

Once again, the explosions started, but twice as strong. Flora glanced around anxiously for the Professor, but he was long gone. She fled, tripping up and cutting herself on multiple occasions. Just when she felt she was about to give up, she felt someone grab her with a familiar hold on her left arm.

Suddenly, Flora found herself being pulled through the streets of Future London. The person ahead of her was unrecognisable, and obviously in a lot of pain. They were still saving her, though. Her savious dragged her into the Thames, and the explosions stopped when they dragged her onto the opposite bank.

Flora wiped her hair out of her eyes and looked up. Than-…"

Her words trailed off when she recognised the figure.

Blue blazer, brown hair, blue eyes and tie.

_Clive Dove._

* * *

_**A/N;**_

_**Another chapter done! There will be daily updates, by the way. Twice daily if my muse if big enough. Who saw this coming? Sorry there wasn't much Clive in this chapter, but this chapter is very important.**_

_**Question for this chapter;**_

_**What's your On top Pairing in the Professor Layton games?**_

_**Review for more!**_


	7. Chapter 7

Clive Dove

This Is Excitement

Chapter Seven

* * *

"You're welcome," Clive muttered, rubbing the back of his head in annoyance. "Always nice to see my help was appreciated,"

Flora stood up, anger filling her. "How dare you! I still haven't forgiven you, and I never will!"

Clive sighed. _Here we go._ To his surprise, Flora didn't say anything else.

"But… I owe you for saving me… so… I guess we're even now,"

Relief flooded over Clive and he smiled slightly, before turning to leave. Flora followed him like a lost puppy.

"Where are you going?" she asked, curious.

Clive shook his head. "Home. Where are you going?"

"With you!" proclaimed Flora, waving a hand in the air. Clive stopped mid-stride.

"No," he stated bluntly. "You are going to find the Professor, and then you are going to leave here and never come back,"

Flora walked along beside him in silence. _He doesn't want me here. _The thought stung her a little, but what hurt most was the tone Clive had used. It was cold and annoyed.

"Sorry," she murmured, head down.

"You've done nothing wrong, Flora,"

His words surprised her. "But… I was weak. I made you save me. If I hadn't been in that position you wouldn't have had to, and we wouldn't have met,"

Clive turned around and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm glad we met, Flora, but it's dangerous here. I'm sorry, but you have to leave, for your own safety,"

Flora sighed, fiddling with a few strands of her hair, avoiding his gaze. "Right. Nobody ever thinks I can handle dangerous situations,"

"That's not what I said," Clive protested, mind wandering to where the Professor actually _was._ Knowing the Professor, he'd be searching the ruined city top to bottom for Flora. Maybe it was safer for him to keep her close to him.

"I understand," Flora replied dully, turning to walk away. Suddenly Clive grabbed her arm.

"No," he whispered, "Don't go and leave me on my own again,"

Clive's head was down, and he was avoiding eye contact with her. Flora suddenly felt a surge of compassion toward the teen. Sure, he had done terrible things, but didn't he deserve a second chance?

She moved closer and his grip on her arm slackened. "Are you okay?' she asked quietly, fixing her brown eyes on his blue ones.

"Yeah." He replied slowly, "Sorry about that. You can stay, if you want,"

Flora smiled lightly. "Of course I'll stay! It'll be fun, right?'

Clive rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "That's definitely one way of putting it,"

The two walked on in silence for quite some time, although often they would glance toward each other and their gazes would lock, which often ended in the two looking away quickly, embarrassed.

Therefor, they were both relieved when Shipley came into view. The postman frowned at Flora before turning to Clive.

"Why did you bring her here?" he asked, as Clive sat down and grabbed a piece of bread, tossing half to Flora.

"Cause I wanted to, Shipley," he answered, relaxed. "I'm allowed to have friends, right?"

Shipley muttered to himself and then looked from Flora to Clive before sighing. "I guess you are. I presume you warned her this place is incredibly dangerous?"

"Of course I did, but she insisted," Clive said, wincing slightly as Shipley took the cloth off his wound. Flora gasped.

"What happened to you?" she asked, horrified.

Clive bit his lip, then laughed. "Bombs. I nearly died, but I'm okay,"

"Right…" Flora sat down without another word and began to eat the bread, looking around the house they had set up camp in.

After Shipley had finished redressing the wound, he checked Flora over, but there was no sign of any damage.

"That's good," remarked Clive, strangely happy he'd managed to save her. "She'd be no use if she'd been killed,"

"You're… strangely upbeat today," Shipley noticed, glancing briefly at Clive before returning to Flora.

"What can I say? I was just born this way," Clive grinned, before sighing and lying back. "Where's Flora planning on sleeping?"

"She'll have to share," Shipley stated. "So I guess it's up to her who she wants to share with,"

Flora didn't eve hesitate to answer. "Clive,"

"Thought so," Shipley nodded. "Well, I'm turning in for the night. Have fun you two,"

Shipley left shortly after, apparently tired.

"I'm beat." Clive yawned slightly, "So I'm going to bed too. Are you coming with me or what?"

"Yes," she replied, following him.

Clive climbed into bed and Flora lay down beside him. He put his arms around her, and was asleep almost immediately.

Flora wasn't so lucky, and found herself lying awake, thinking. But the one thing stuck in her mind and made her smile.

She felt _safe_ when he held her.

* * *

**A/N;**

** Arriann Dove**

**Do NOT under any circumstances put your real name or anyone elses on this story, as everybody can see your reviews. You will appear soon, I promise.**

**On the bright side, I am looking for OC's! I'm not saying what they're for… yet. To have your OC in it, please fill out this form!**

**Username;**

**OC Name;**

**Gender;**

**Age;**

**Personality;**

**History;**

**Crush;**

**Against Clive or with him;**

**Thanks.**

**Review for more!**


	8. Chapter 8

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_Chapter 8_

* * *

Flora woke early the next morning, and pried herself from Clive's grip. The teen was asleep, and she didn't have the heart to wake him. When she walked downstairs in their makeshift home, she was surprised to see Shipley was awake.

When he heard footsteps, the postman in question turned around, and huffed when he saw Flora. "Dove still not up yet?"

"No," answered Flora politely, "Still asleep. He probably needs to catch up, what, with being hunted down and everything,"

Shipley nodded and threw a piece of bread over to her, apologising. "Bread is all we have at the moment,"

"Doesn't matter, though," Clive's voice came from behind as he walked over to them. "I'm used to being on just bread and water,"

Flora giggled and even Shipley smiled, then scolded him.

"What have I told you about lying in? We don't have time, that's what I told you!"

Clive simply lay back in a chair. Yeah, yeah. When are you going to tell me something _useful_ Shipley?"

Shipley sighed, shrugged his shoulders and sorted through medicine in his bag, taking their temperatures and checking their wounds.

"Good, you're both going to live,"

"Thanks for that amazing deduction," Clive muttered sarcastically. Flora simply smiles and hit him on the shoulder.

"Hey now, Shipley's doing us a favour. We're better being safe than sorry," she chided enthusiastically.

"Always the optimist," he murmured, glancing at the ground, then standing up. "Anyway. The plan,"

Shipley and Flora suddenly became very interested in what the teen had to say.

"If Bill wants a fight, he can have one," Clive concluded, glancing from the two back to the floor. "I still feel bad about what I did years ago, but this is different. This is self defence. We're going to fight back,"

Flora held her breath, then raised a hand.

"Yes?" Clive asked unenthusiastically.

Flora took a deep breath. "How are we going to do that without being very bad?"

"Oh my dear, naïve Flora," Clive murmured playfully. "I never actually said it was going to be _legal._"

Flora and Shipley rolled their eyes. Flora then muttered. "Here we go with another one of those 'Build a whole underground London to house my giant robot to exact revenge on the prime minister' plans,"

"No actually. This time, we're going simple style," Clive sighed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

"Why?" asked Shipley, curious to see why Clive had changed his approach. "Why not try to rebuild the fortress?"

Flora nodded, she had been wondering the same thing. Why not just use the same plan that had almost worked last time?

Clive grinned. "Because this time, we're not targeting all of London, we're just targeting the Prime Minister."

"Good." Flora put in, "You worried everybody with your maniacal plans last time,"

"Shut up," Clive shot back, his hand were fists now, and anger surged through him as he tried to keep it down.

Shipley noticed this and stepped in. "Now now, play nicely, you two,"

Flora gazed at Clive, wondering what had changed his mood so quickly. _I'm sorry! I never meant to upset you!_ But she couldn't manage to say them.

Here she was, about to get caught up in one of Clive's illegal 'take down the Prime Minister' plans. Yet it felt right. The Prime Minister had nearly killed her. Wasn't that enough reasoning to be angry with him? Or was she angry at him for the pain he'd put Clive through.

She honestly couldn't be sure.

* * *

**A/N;**

**Still needing OC's! Check last chapter for forms!**

**So what did you think of this chapter?**

**As ever, review for the next update!**


	9. Chapter 9

_Clive Dove_

_This Is Excitement_

_Chapter 9_

**Sorry sorry, guys! Real Life took over with all it's dramas and all that good stuff. I was hospitalized and yeah I didn't get to do much writing (Nor did the hospital have any internet)**

**So yeah. Back on track now!**

**IMPORTANT**

_Uhhh I feel pressured on this story. I know a lot of you like it, so would any of you like to be co-author? If you do want to help out (I'll be choosing), then simply just PM me saying that you'd like to be co-author and give me an example of your writing. If I don't get someone's help I don't think I'll be able to continue, because my family is in hospital, my grandfather died and I'm sick / I'll try my best alone, but please, if you want to co-author PM me._

* * *

Clive sighed. It had been two days, and they still hadn't managed to form a solid plan. Most of the time had been spent arguing over flaws and small details, which probably weren't important.

Then again, they might be.

Shipley seemed to think he was going to fail again. He had simply thanked him for the vote of confidence and walked out. Flora was worried about the whole affair, and how they were going to get out of it alive and without criminal records. Clive had told her they probably wouldn't, which had made Flora cry, and he spent a whole hour calming her down.

Downstairs, he could just hear the chattering of the two, while he lay upstairs on his back, simply wanting a break from the two, who had spent the whole morning shouting in his ear and arguing. It wasn't good for his mental health.

As the talk got louder and louder, Clive began to feel annoyed. Couldn't he have at least a few moments of quiet to think? Apparently not.

After he could take it no longer, Clive stormed downstairs, about to yell at them to be quiet, when he noticed the blood on the floor.

"What happened?" he asked, whispering as if scared. Clive glanced around, trying to locate the source of the bleeding. Shipley was leaning over someone.

Flora!

A chill swept through him. Flora lay on the ground, blood pooling around her forehead. Her breathing came in short, swift gasps. Clive knelt next to her, and Shipley put a cloth on her forehead to attempt to stifle the blood flow. Both of them were very pale.

Clive was horrified. Who could have snuck in here, and harmed Flora in plain sight? The worst part was, he very much doubted Shipley had a doctor's licence, but oh well, it was all they had. He was Flora's only chance of survival.

"Is there something I can do?"

Shipley nodded, "Go and get some water. I'll need some. Then go and find me a piece of cloth. Anything."

Clive didn't reply, simply stood up and ran to get what Shipley had requested. Once he acquired the water, he realised getting cloth would be difficult. But Flora really needed it. Unhappily, he tore the sleeve of his white shirt, up to about elbow length. That would do until he found something better.

He returned to Shipley and handed across the items, sitting down and trying to pick up on what Shipley was doing. It was hard, as Shipley worked hard and fast. Flora's death would be certain if he couldn't heal her.

It was only a matter of time, and Clive for one knew that you could not change the past.

* * *

**Sorry it's really short, but if I get a co-owner the chapters will definitely be longer! Until next time,**

**UtterMadness**


	10. Chapter 10

**New chapter written by our new CO-Author, xxJulyRainxx! Enjoy!**

* * *

Clive sighed as he straightened the brown tie around his neck yet again to calm his nerves. He understood that he couldn't carry out his plan alone, but he couldn't help worry about his recruitment plan. Shipley had made sure to stress the fact that, no, this plan was not safe and that there must be a better way. Clive assured him that it was fine, but he couldn't deny that it was very risky. He had been in the papers many times due to his… incarceration, so there was definitely a chance that someone might recognize him. He would have to be careful.  
Clive placed a copper-coloured cap on his head to complete his disguise, one not unlike the clothes he sported as "Future Luke". He raised his eyes to check himself in the broken full-length mirror in front of him. He had tried his best to wear plain hues to avoid being noticed, choosing only shades of brown. He actually thought that he was being quite daring when he decided to wear a blazer of a shade of green that most people would refer to as olive.  
He ducked down to take a look at his head in the bottom portion of the mirror, as a particularly big crack in the glass at the top of the mirror prevented him from doing so standing at his full height. The shadow created by the brim of his cap made it a bit difficult for him to see his face in detail and covered a larger part of his hair ( compared to his navy hat, at least ), which Clive thought was just what he needed. It he had a hard time looking in a mirror, it would be even more difficult for pedestrians to see his face as they walked past him on the streets.  
Clive stood up again and made his way to the front door of the building, but not before crossing the room again to stick a note he had written earlier, addressed to Shipley, visible on the mirror he had used. Then he opened the door and made his way back above ground to London.

Shipley sat next to the clean, white hospital bed reading the day's papers. He looked up from the reading material as a knock came from the door and a nurse entered. The name tag on her uniform said Maria Foster.  
"Hello, Mr. Shipley. I'm just here to check on Miss Flora, see if she's comfortable," she explained in a cheerful tone. It sounded practiced, like she'd had to feign the emotion before. She probably had, with other coma patients' families and friends.  
The doctors had told Shipley that Flora was suffering from a coma, caused by blunt trauma to the head. Of course, he hadn't told them the real cause of the head injury. He had simply told them that she had suffered from a very hard fall when she had tripped on the way down some stairs and onto the glass surface of a table at home. He hoped they didn't think of it as suspicious and unrealistic. It would certainly make things easier for everyone.  
After she had left, Shipley put his newspaper down and moved to the door. He needed to get back to their base underground. He looked back at Flora, lying in the hospital bed, a web of cords and IV drips jutting out of her arms and hands. The poor girl didn't deserve to have been so brutally attacked.  
Shipley sighed and wished the best to Flora's recovery before heading out the door.

Clive had forgotten just how populated the real London was. All he could do was stand in the middle of the side walk getting pushed around by impatient pedestrians, looking back at glares with a semi-startled expression.  
He mentally shook his head, trying to focus more on his goal. All he needed to do was find some people who believed in the same ideas he did: that Bill Hawks was a dangerous, unjust, and reckless man whose crimes should be recognized by the public. But to be honest, he had no idea where he would even find people still discussing Clive's actions a few years ago.  
He was off to a great start.  
Not knowing where to start, he started walking to a nearby park, near the heart of the city, which was close by to where "Future London" used to be. Upon entering the park, he noticed something he hadn't seen in the past.  
There was a plaza-like area in the center of the circular park, where the ground was of paved stone and surrounded along the edge by some wooden benches. Those had always been there, Clive remembered. But while the park from the past had an open space in the middle of the plaza, now there was a giant black stone block taking up a large portion of the circle's area. Some people were gathered around the big sculpture, he guessed he could call it, talking amongst them or just staring at it in silence. That was when he noticed the tiny golden letters etched into the entire surface of the rock, groups of two or more words separated from one another by a tiny golden dot. They were arranged neatly, in straight rows winding all the way around the entire sculpture surface. There was a plaque on the ground in front of the huge slab. It said in a formal looking font, "Great London Tragedy Memorial – Registered Deaths". Clive felt his eyes widen in surprise.  
He never read about any of this in the newspaper, only the registered death and injury toll. Fortunately, the ratio of injury to death was higher (it had to be noted that Clive was only thankful that there weren't as many deaths as there could have been, not of the fact that people had been injured or had perished in the first place).  
"I'm not saying that this was the right way to go about it," he heard man say, "But don't you agree that this Clive Dove fellow opened up peoples' eyes on the crimes Bill Hawks committed?"  
"Samuel, can't we talk about this later? Not here, at least. It seems… disrespectful to agree with you in front of this memorial."  
"Well, you sort of already did that, Olivia…"  
"Um, excuse me?" This time there was a new voice. It was another woman, but now someone with a much softer and shy tone. "I'm terribly sorry for overhearing your conversation, but…"  
The voice paused for a moments before continuing. "I didn't think that anyone had the same view on Bill Hawks…"  
At this point, Clive was enraptured in the strangers' conversation and decided to look up into their direction. He saw two women and a man, just as he suspected, standing next to the dark statue. One was wearing a long dress and had long, dark hair that she used to supposedly hide herself. The other two resembled each other greatly, with the same distinct strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes, although the man had a warm and welcoming gaze while the woman had a cooler, almost judgmental look. Clive could tell that they were siblings, possibly even twins, due to their resemblance.  
"Really? That's great! We really didn't think anyone thought the same way as us, either!" The man, Samuel, said while laughing lightheartedly. "I have so much to discuss with you! How about we go over to that café around the corner? Oh, what's the name…? Liv, what was the café's name again?"  
His question was met with a terrifying glare from "Olivia", which made the other girl's eyes widen and Samuel laugh again, this time nervously. Clive couldn't help but let out a chuckle as well, as the other young man started to back away from the staring lady, step by step.  
"Samuel, how rude of you! We don't even know this young lady's name yet," Olivia said in a clipped voice. The other girl looked like she didn't know how to react to their banter.  
Clive stood up and casually walked over to the group of three. They looked in his direction as he stepped closer and closer, and he saw the blue eyes of the quiet woman show signs of recognition. She showed signs of gasping but quickly covered her mouth when the two siblings looked at her in confusion. He began to speak when he finally reached the group, standing close enough so that only they could hear him.  
"I'm sure at least one of you recognizes me," he said, smiling slightly. "Which might not be a good thing, as I'm trying to do the opposite of that." He laughed.  
God, he was nervous.

"Hey, wait a minute- you're-!" Samuel began, eyes widening as well, before being cut off by Olivia.  
"You're both being too suspicious. Tone it down a little, act natural," she said airily. "Hello, Mr. Clive Dove. As you can see, we're very surprised to see you here. Aren't you supposed to be in prison?" Her words were flowing and her voice never showed any signs that she was talking to an escaped criminal. Clive thought that her acting was impressive and her collected composure admirable.  
"Well, yes, but…" he looked down and reached up to scratch his head sheepishly. "I may have escaped to carry out my new plan. Nothing quite like what I did years ago. I agree that I wasn't in a right state of mind back then, always thinking of revenge. This new plan, though, will help us expose Bill Hawks and bring him down from his position as prime minister for good."  
He paused for a breath. He couldn't help his words from falling out of his mouth so rushed. "I heard you all discuss your views on our dear prime minister, and I want to make an offer."  
"Mr. Dove, if I may interrupt, please?" Everyone was surprised to see that it wasn't Olivia that had spoken, but the unnamed young woman that hadn't spoken a word since seeing Clive walk towards them. He nodded.  
"Of course, Miss…?"  
"Nelson. My name is Sarah Nelson. As I was about to say," she said in a voice that sounded barely above a whisper to the other group members, "I really don't think it would be wise to discuss this plan here, in this popular park. Perhaps we could move to the café that Mr. Samuel was talking about?"  
"I believe you're right. By the way, I'm Olivia Patterson. Samuel is my twin brother," Olivia spoke to Sarah. "The café is called The Aroma House, if I remember correctly. We could discuss things further there."  
"But I want to know what you're trying to propose first!" Samuel exclaimed, curious.  
"I suppose it can't hurt to tell you that part here," Clive said. "What I am trying to do is look for new recruits who share the same ideas and views that I have. Of course, you may think about this offer, but I want you three to be the first new members of our team."


End file.
